A Very Unfortunate Game of Tag

On one of our lazy senior-itis afternoons in school leadership class we
decided to give productivity a miss and go out into the gorgeous
afternoon and play some kissing tag. Kissing tag pits the boys
against the girls with the boys on one side and the girls on the
other. One person who is 'it' sits in the middle and a boy and girl
are chosen randomly. If the person who is 'it' is a girl then the
picked boy tried to kiss her before the picked girl can kiss him.
Whoever does their job wins and the other person is 'it'. This is a
perfect game if you are playing with all cute and fun people because,
kissing. It is not fun if the ratio of uglies gets too high and you
are trying to decide which kiss would be worse on the fly. This day
the ratio was pretty good but about fifteen minutes into the game a
girl suffered a womanly leak and didn't notice most of the rest of us
did but I, at least, had no idea if it would be less embarrassing for
me to tell her in front of everyone or for her to realize it later.
The correct answer was both are equally horrifying. A girl tried to
get her attention and quietly let her know about her accidental
discharge but the girl was too into the game and didn't understand
what she was being told discreetly and yelled at the sacrificial
Samaritan asking her what she said because she couldn't hear her. The
person trying to head off the problem just pointed a finger at her
own crotch and nodded her head towards the leak now spreading around
her crotch. The girl, still smiling and laughing a little looked down
and understood screamed and grabbed her hoodie sweatshirts wrapping
around her waist as she ran off crying. We all felt horrible fro her
and discontinued the game and wandered over to sit in the shade and
talk about anything other than what had just happened. To my
knowledge none of us ever told someone else the story and definitely
not with the girl's name attached, some things are just too shameful
even joke about. It is one of those things I would love to ask her
about after all these years and see how she felt at the time but I
couldn't for fear that she would still be ashamed and had hoped it
was gone and forgotten.